


Burning Starlights

by waroftheposes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Pining Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waroftheposes/pseuds/waroftheposes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have stars,” Enjolras blurted out before Grantaire could ask any questions.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“On your back,” Enjolras said as a clarification. “Lots of them. They’re neat.”</p><p>—</p><p>where Grantaire has a lot of tattoos on his back and Enjolras has a big crush on Grantaire</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Starlights

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something that had Grantaire have constellation tattooed on his back. This kind of like, developed from there.
> 
> A big thanks to my beautiful [beta](http://wizzardblizzard.tumblr.com), who had to deal with my freaking out at 2 AM over this fic.

Enjolras had known Grantaire for six years when he fell in love with him. 

It didn’t happen gradually, it came all at once. Or at least, that’s what he told Combeferre when he called him at 10:00 PM to talk about it. He didn’t listen when Combeferre reasoned that he’d actually been behaving as if he liked Grantaire for much longer. Enjolras insisted that crushes came suddenly and unexpectedly.

Then unexpectedly, it became hard for Enjolras to be in the same room as Grantaire. 

At the beginning of their junior year, Grantaire and Enjolras had begun a small attempt at friendship. Having been completely hostile to each other throughout elementary and middle school, they’d somehow found themselves with the same group of friends at the beginning of their sophomore year in high school. A year of petty quarrels in the lunch room and subtly asking everyone to pick sides, and their friends had forced them to spend quality time together. 

So they became friends; somewhat. 

They also had English Comp together that year. On the first day of class, for some odd reason, Grantaire chose to sit next to Enjolras, and, when forced to do all their assignments in the same group, their friendship actually grew. It grew to the point that when Enjolras began running for student body president, he had asked Grantaire to run with him.

(Grantaire had laughed in his face, gestured to himself, and then laughed some more, and Enjolras had been forced to ask Courfeyrac to run with him. But that’s besides the point. Either way, Grantaire had helped with the campaign posters.)

So by the time Enjolras realized that he was in love with Grantaire, Grantaire had become a good friend. 

Which was why Enjolras avoiding him like the plague and never looking him in the eyes was becoming very hard to explain. Grantaire was starting to get suspicious. 

—

_“O crudelis Alexi, nihil mea carmina curas? nil nostri miserere?”_

Enjolras, sitting alone in the biology classroom during lunch, raised his head from his book to see Grantaire had taken the seat next to him. Immediately, his heart began to beat faster and he felt his face heating up. It took him a moment to register what Grantaire had said, then another to realize that he didn’t actually understand it.

“What?” Enjolras asked, blinking.

Grantaire smirked at him, dropping his backpack on the ground and putting one hand on his own chest. The other he raised to the sky, as if he were addressing someone.

“ _Rusticus es, Corydon; nec munera curat Alexis_.”

“Are you chanting at me?” Enjolras asked, though he registered that Grantaire was talking to him in Latin.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nope, just trying to be open and tell you all my feelings,” Grantaire said.

“You do realize that you’re the only person in this entire school who takes _Latin_ ,” Enjolras said raising his eyebrows. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Grantaire shrugged, smile dropping. He looked disappointed, though why he thought Enjolras would understand something in Latin was beyond Enjolras.

“It’s from Vergil’s second Eclogue, about the shepherd?” Grantaire said a bit hopefully. “Have you read it?”

Enjolras shook his head.

Grantaire sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Doesn’t matter I guess, where’s your posse?” he asked, straightening up and looking around.

Enjolras shrugged. “Dunno. I kind of wanted to get away from the loudness in the cafeteria. You know, be alone.”

Grantaire settled himself more comfortably on his chair. “Ugh, nerd,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. He gave Enjolras a cheeky smile.

“Too bad you found me,” Enjolras said, rolling his eyes and closing his book.

“I can leave?” Grantaire said, sitting up again, looking unsure.

“No, don’t,” Enjolras responded quickly. “I like you here.”

Grantaire tilted his head. “Oh you do, ha?”

Enjolras nodded, looking away.

“So hey, I wanted to ask you something,” Grantaire said after a pause.

Enjolras felt his stomach drop. This was because his stomach was an idiot who thought every time Grantaire talked to him could be the time they talked about feelings.

“What is it?”

Grantaire was avoiding his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

Enjolras blinked. Oh no. 

“No, of course not,” Enjolras said, forcing himself to look directly at Grantaire. “Why would you think that?”

“Well this past month, we’ve hardly talked. You don’t really text me anymore,” Grantaire said, frowning. “I don’t know, I thought maybe I’ve done something to offend you.”

The past month, because it had been exactly a month since being alone in a room with Grantaire had become impossible.

Shaking his head, Enjolras said, “Grantaire, I promise you did nothing wrong. I value you as a friend the same amount that I have for the past year.”

Grantaire smiled. “Good, so…”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“My parents are going out of town this weekend. It’ll be just me and my older brother at home. Wanna stay over?”

Enjolras almost said no before he thought better of it. Saying yes would be agreeing to spending time alone with Grantaire. His brother rarely spent the night at their house when their parents were home. He always disappeared when Grantaire’s parents left the two alone for a weekend. Enjolras didn’t know how he would fare if he were alone with Grantaire for an entire weekend. He wanted to be alone with Grantaire, forever, duh, but he could also like, explode if Grantaire so much as touched him unexpectedly.

Apparently he had stayed quiet for too long because Grantaire was grabbing his shoulder and muttering, “Hey it’s ok if you don’t want to,” Enjolras slapped his hand away, making a decision.

“I’d love to spend the weekend with you,” he said smiling and bracing himself. “But you have to promise to stop reciting Latin at me.”

“Um… I make no promises?”

“Grantaire…”

“What?” Grantaire responded, feigning innocence.

“You know what,” Enjolras said, sighing.

In response, Grantaire winked.

“You are impossible,” Enjolras said and took out his book to read again.

Grantaire smiled and reached out to take out his own homework. They spent the rest of their break in companionable—if somewhat nervous on Enjolras’ part—silence.

—

By the time his mother dropped him off in front of Grantaire’s house on Friday, Enjolras had convinced himself that he had made a big mistake.

Enjolras couldn’t spend a whole weekend with Grantaire. He couldn’t sleep on Grantaire’s air mattress, mere feet away from the subject of his recent fantasies. He could not be trusted to behave himself around someone he was so attracted to.

He walked up the driveway reluctantly, and when he rang the doorbell, his hands were shaking.

Grantaire opened the door with a big smile, waved at Enjolras’ mother, and dragged Enjolras inside.

“Take your stuff upstairs,” he said to Enjolras, letting go of his arm. He gestured to the stairs before turning and walking towards the tv room. 

Enjolras walked up the stairs and down the narrow hall to Grantaire’s room. He deposited his duffle bag next to the dresser and walked back down the stairs, his heart thumping loudly in his chest with every step. What kind of stupidity had seized him, that he had been reduced to such a quivering mess at the sight of his own friend? Enjolras stopped by the door to the TV room and commanded himself to “pull it together, damn you.” He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before forcing himself to join Grantaire in the room. When he entered the TV room, he saw Grantaire kneeling in front of the tv, a bowl of popcorn next to him. He looked up when Enjolras entered the room. 

“I’ve got this French musical that I think you’ll like, and Stardust, what do you prefer?” He asked as Enjolras sat on the sofa.

“We’re watching movies tonight?” Enjolras asked. 

Grantaire shrugged. “I figured you’d like this better than watching me play Call of Duty. Or wait,” Grantaire said, his eyes lighting up, “do you want to play Call of Duty _with_ me? I’ve got two controllers.”

“No,” Enjolras said flatly. Then, “wait do you have the new Assassin’s Creed game that’s set during the French Revolution.”

Grantaire bit his lips. “Yes but you’d hate it,” he said, schooling his expression. “All the revolutionaries are the bad guys.”

“What the hell?” Enjolras asked, unable to comprehend the logic behind that.

“And Napoleon helps the main character,” Grantaire goes on, gleefully.

Enjolras sighed, crossing his legs and pouting. “Now that’s just ridiculous.”

Grantaire nodded sympathetically. “So… movie or games?”

“Ugh,” Enjolras said. “Movie.”

Grantaire gestured for him to go on.

Enjolras shrugged. “I want to watch Stardust I guess,” he said after a moment. 

“Good choice,” Grantaire responded, putting the DVD in. He stood and placed the popcorn bowl in Enjolras’ lap before taking a seat next to him.

The movie was cute. Grantaire kept a running commentary throughout, making Enjolras laugh. 

Being with him like this was much easier than Enjolras had thought. There was a reason they were friends. Grantaire was witty and smart, and he loved making the people around him laugh. And he liked to tease Enjolras endlessly. 

At one point, he even paused the movie and turned to face Enjolras.

“Enjolras,” he said seriously, “I have something very serious to ask you.”

“What?”

Grantaire smiled. “Why did the chicken cross the street?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and tried to grab the remote. “This is stupid.”

“No,” Grantaire said, keeping the remote out of Enjolras’ reach. “It’s very important.”

“Alright, why?” Enjolras said, giving up on the remote.

“To get to the idiot’s house,” Grantaire said with a smile. 

“Ok?”

“Knock knock,” Grantaire said, his smile growing.

“Oh my god,” Enjolras groaned, putting his head in his hands. “That’s the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re smiling though,” Grantaire teased.

“Only at your stupidity,” Enjolras replied, raising his head. 

“Aha, sure,” Grantaire said, resuming the movie. 

When the movie ended, Enjolras was completely relaxed.

—

The relaxed feeling flew right out the window when it was time for bed.

As he followed Grantaire up to the bedroom, Enjolras realized with a sinking feeling that soon, Grantaire would be shirtless in front him. Shirtless and completely oblivious and Enjolras would probably die.

By the time they had reached Grantaire’s room though, he had reassured himself of his control over his own feelings. That proved to be completely false when Grantaire took off his shirt. Breathless, Enjolras watched as Grantaire pulled the loose t-shirt over his head and threw it on the floor leisurely. Grantaire’s back was, for lack of a better word, magnificent. In the deep corners of his mind, Enjolras knew that he was staring, and that his staring could be considered rude, but he didn’t have the strength to look away. He had been aware, vaguely, that Grantaire had tattoos, but he’d never seen them before. Of course, before, when his heartbeat didn’t increase at the mention of Grantaire’s name, and his stomach didn’t somersault at the sight of Grantaire, he hadn’t cared to ask why he’d never seen any of Grantaire’s many tattoos. Now he knew why.

They were all on his back. His extremely well toned back. Enjolras followed the lines of Grantaire’s muscles as he stretched his arms above his head and leaned his head back. Soon he would turn around and Enjolras would have to pretend that he wasn’t looking at him, that he wasn’t transfixed by the multiple tiny dots and lines adorning Grantaire’s back. 

He actively resisted walking up to Grantaire, raising a hand, and tracing the lines and stars with his fingers.

At that moment, Grantaire turned his head around and smiled at him.

“You’re being oddly quiet,” he said.

Enjolras swallowed. “Am I?” His voice, when he finally managed to get it out, was much higher than usual. He coughed. “I’m not.”

Grantaire turned around completely then, and Enjolras didn’t have to stare at his back any longer. Now however, he was staring at Grantaire’s chest, which was yet another issue.

There were muscles even though Grantaire was wiry and rarely exercised. There was also chest hair but it wasn’t excessive, because Grantaire was actually perfect. He had a perfect chest and a perfect, tattooed back, and a big beautiful smile and hair that was—

“Enjolras!” Enjolras was taken out of his musing—insert: gawking—by Grantaire calling his name loudly.

Enjolras shook his head. “What?”

“I have literally been calling your name for the past like, minute,” Grantaire said, and immediately ensured that Enjolras’ attention would not return to the conversation by putting his hand on his belt and opening it.

Enjolras had always thought there was something obscene about the act of opening a belt. When Grantaire opened his belt though, Enjolras was overwhelmed by a different reason. He turned his head and closed his eyes. He was in actual pain. Every inch of his body was throbbing with want. He was aware of himself, with every heartbeat, from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. And even though he had closed his eyes, he heard Grantaire’s belt unbuckle, and then a swishing noise as the pants fell to the ground. 

Enjolras forced himself to open his eyes. He was acting ridiculous and it would probably be more awkward if Grantaire noticed how odd he was acting.

Grantaire stood in front him in nothing but black boxer briefs, a figure out of Enjolras’ filthiest dreams, and Enjolras needed to touch him.

That or flee. No one would blame him if he fled now.

“Are you gonna get ready for bed?” Grantaire asked, tilting his head. Enjolras wanted to scream at him for being so relaxed without any clothes on.

He shook his head, then nodded. “I’ll do that, yea.”

“You look like you’re about to faint,” Grantaire said, taking a step closer. Enjolras took a step back, unsure of what he would do if Grantaire touched him. 

“No, no I’m like, totally fine,” he said, a picture of eloquence. He tried to calm his beating heart, looking anywhere but at Grantaire. “I just, um, is it hot in here?”

A laugh escaped Grantaire. “Is it hot in here?” he asked incredulously.

Why was Grantaire laughing at him? Enjolras looked at Grantaire, quickly remembered that it was a bad idea, and looked away again. He crossed his arms. 

“It’s a legitimate question,” he said.

“Right, for like, the middle of December?”

“Well aren’t you cold then?” Enjolras said in response.

“You just ask me if it was hot,” Grantaire said, still sound amused.

“Shut up…” Enjolras mumbled.

Grantaire didn’t respond for a long enough time that Enjolras had to drag his gaze back towards him. It wasn’t much of a stretch because all of Enjolras wanted to be looking at Grantaire. Grantaire had turned around again, bending down to pick up his clothes and folding them. 

Enjolras stepped closer to him. He didn’t mean to, but the sight of Grantaire’s back seemed to have a hold on him. He stepped close enough to be able to see the different constellations tattooed there. There was Orion and Ursa Major and Cassiopeia; the stars in each set connected to each other with small, almost transparent lines. There were other constellations too. Cancer, because that was Grantaire’s zodiac sign—Enjolras knew this for reasons. And two other ones that Enjolras didn’t recognize. One looked like a lyre and the other a cup. Grantaire had freckles too. Tiny little brown bumps on his back that looked like they could be stars. 

Enjolras took another step forward, raising a hand to trace the lines on Grantaire’s back, but he stopped himself at the last minute. He needed to stop being a weirdo. He hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten to Grantaire until Grantaire turned around again. By then it was too late for Enjolras to step back.

Grantaire straightened up in surprise. It might have made Enjolras squeal. Whatever, it was totally dignified.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire said. Enjolras looked at him, then down to their almost touching chests. Grantaire didn’t seem bothered by their proximity, past the initial surprise, which was good. 

“You have stars,” Enjolras blurted out before Grantaire could ask any questions.

“What?”

“On your back,” Enjolras said as a clarification. “Lots of them. They’re neat.”

Grantaire gave him a lopsided smile. “Neat ha?”

Enjolras nodded, swallowing. “Really pretty.”

Grantaire’s smile grew brighter. “You really think so?” he said in a smaller voice. He reached a hand and grabbed Enjolras’ upper arm gently. “You don’t think they’re tacky?” He asked.

Enjolras shook his head, unable to speak. At once, his whole focus was on Grantaire’s hand. Grantaire’s hand was warm and it was touching him and all Enjolras wanted to do was lean in and kiss him.

“No,” Enjolras said a moment later. They were closer now, somehow, Grantaire’s lips only a hair away from Enjolras’, and Enjolras didn’t know who had been the one to move closer. “No, I think,” a pause, a breath, “I think they’re stunning.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire said softly. His other hand found Enjolras waist, and Enjolras couldn’t think anymore. All he could focus on was Grantaire’s chest, lips and the warmth where his hands touched Enjolras. He knew he would kiss Grantaire about a second before he leaned up and captured Grantaire’s bottom lip between his own. 

For a moment, Grantaire didn’t respond. Then he was kissing Enjolras back, taking Enjolras’ top lip between his teeth and sucking on it before letting go and opening his mouth. A desperate sound escaped Enjolras’ lips as he felt Grantaire’s left hand grabbing his hair and the right cupping his waist. Grantaire pushed forward, taking control and deepening the kiss and Enjolras let him. He had wanted Grantaire to kiss him like this: forcefully and passionately. When he felt Grantaire’s tongue running over his bottom lip, he obediently opened his mouth and gave him access.

Lost in the kiss, Enjolras wondered what it would feel to have Grantaire’s mouth on his neck, on his nipples, on his stomach. As if able to read his mind, Grantaire tore his mouth away from Enjolras’ and began kissing his chin and jaw. Enjolras was completely surprised by the moan that escaped him when Grantaire began leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. Still, he tilted his head to give Grantaire better access. His hands no longer felt comfortable on Grantaire’s chest so Enjolras wrapped them around his neck.

He wished to be horizontal. No, he needed to be horizontal. He needed it more than anything.

“Grantaire,” he said, his voice oddly raspy. It sounded more like a moan than a call for attention.

“Yes,” was Grantaire’s breathy response. Grantaire wasn’t paying attention. He was kissing Enjolras’ shoulder now, moving Enjolras’ t-shirt away for better access. A part of Enjolras wanted to let him be, but there was another part of him that wanted to lie down with Grantaire firmly on top of him. That part finally won out, and reluctantly, Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s head away.

“Listen,” he said when Grantaire raised his head to look at him. Grantaire’s lips were wet and swollen and his eyes were glazed. Enjolras almost started kissing him again. “I need a thing.”

Grantaire smiled. “Whatever you want.”

“I want.” Enjolras swallowed, willing the words to come out. “I want to lie down.”

Grantaire blinked. It took him a second to get it and when he did, his eyes widened. “You want..”

Enjolras nodded.

Grantaire looked away, letting go of Enjolras to run a hand through his hair. Without him as an anchor, Enjolras felt like he might fall, so he reached out a hand and steadied himself by grabbing Grantaire’s unoccupied arm.

“Listen Enjolras,” Grantaire began. He both looked and sounded like someone who was about to say no, and Enjolras spoke before Grantaire had a chance to go on.

“You said anything I want,” he insisted.

“Yea, that was in the middle of things and,” he paused there and Enjolras’ heart sank by the thought that he was about to be rejected. 

Grantaire took a breath and looked directly at Enjolras. “I mean, I won’t deny you anything, I don’t think I can. But before this goes on, you need to know that I,” he stopped again, looked away, sighed, and looked back at Enjolras. “I really like you and this isn’t just a thing for me. It… means something.”

Surprised, Enjolras blinked at him. “What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“I just don’t want to take advantage of you,” Grantaire said.

“Take advantage of me?” Enjolras asked incredulously. “Grantaire, I kissed you!”

“Yea but that was before you knew that I liked you,” Grantaire replied.

“If I knew that I would have kissed you harder.”

“What?” Grantaire said after a moment.

“I like you too you idiot,” Enjolras said, wrapping his arms around Grantaire’s neck again. “So, so much. Did you not notice the ogling?”

Grantaire bit his lip and shook his head.

“Well there was that, and the inappropriate almost touching. Can we go back to you kissing my neck now?”

Grantaire nodded, grabbing Enjolras’ hand and leading him to the twin-sized bed. They stood in front of the bed, suddenly awkward, until Grantaire gestured towards it with his head.

“Well, lie down,” he said.

Enjolras nodded, his heart beating rapidly, and began to climb on the bed when Grantaire stopped him.

“Take your shirt off first,” he said, not meeting Enjolras’ gaze. 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire’s closed door. “Is the door locked?”

Grantaire frowned. “Does it matter?”

Enjolras nodded.

“I’ll lock it now,” Grantaire said, shaking his head. Enjolras took that opportunity to take off his shirt and sit on the bed. He didn’t want to lie down on it before Grantaire came back. 

Grantaire came back in a moment though. He took one look at Enjolras and pushed him down on the bed before hauling him up so his legs were not falling down the sides. It should have been uncomfortable, but Enjolras had no time to think about it. The minute he became comfortable on the bed, Grantaire’s lips were on his. He cupped Enjolras’ cheeks, kissing him deeply, biting his bottom lip, and moving on to his chin before Enjolras could respond in kind. 

He kissed down Enjolras jaw and briefly sucked on Enjolras’ earlobe. Enjolras didn’t know what happened, but for a second, his vision blurred and his hips bucked.

“Do that again,” he said and Grantaire obliged for a minute and then moved on to Enjolras neck. There were kisses all over his shoulders, now on his chest, and then a warm, wet, mouth was on his nipple, sucking gently, and Enjolras moaned. He threw his head back, tightening his eyes, and grabbed Grantaire’s head. He never wanted that mouth to leave.

“Grantaire,” he said, no longer caring how desperate he sounded. He lifted his hips up, needing friction and finding none, and moaned again when Grantaire bit harshly on his nipple.

Apparently he was being too loud because a moment later, Grantaire’s hand was covering his mouth. Enjolras did the first thing that came to mind: he began sucking on Grantaire’s pinkie finger. 

Grantaire raised his head, looking in wonder as Enjolras began sucking on his ring and then middle finger. He lowered his hips, and finally, _finally_ , there was friction. He opened his legs, letting Grantaire settle between them.

“Why did you stop?” Enjolras said, moving his hips up, watching as Grantaire closed his eyes. He felt Grantaire hard against him.

“You were doing the thing,” Grantaire said, gesturing at his mouth. 

Enjolras brought his lips to Grantaire’s fingers again and looked up at him through his lashes. 

“Well, don’t stop,” he said.

That was all the encouragement Grantaire needed. He dropped his head to Enjolras’ nipple, taking it between his teeth, biting harshly. His hand pinched Enjolras’ other nipple.

Enjolras groaned and bucked his hips, grinding against Grantaire, faster and harder with every pinch and pull.

Grantaire began kissing up Enjolras’ neck again. Then his jaw, until his mouth was by Enjolras’ ear.

“Tell me what you want,” he said and pinched Enjolras’ nipple, hard.

Enjolras groaned. He didn’t want to talk. He felt himself getting closer and closer and he _didn’t want to talk._

“Enjolras,” Grantaire persisted, pushing down on both of Enjolras’ nipples with his thumbs.

“I want you to fuck me,” came out of Enjolras without his knowing how. Next to him, Grantaire made a choking noise, his thrusts against Enjolras getting erratic. 

He gripped Enjolras’ shoulder and whispered, “I want to fuck you too.”

And just like that, everything felt too sensitive. Too much movement, too much heat, to much noise, and Enjolras was coming before he realized what had happened. His vision went white, and when he could comprehend his surroundings again, he felt Grantaire’s hold on his shoulder tighten for a second. His thrusting stopped, and then Grantaire fell on top of him with a sigh.

They lay like that for a while, just breathing. Enjolras was too spent to say anything. 

Eventually, Grantaire moved himself off of Enjolras, and pushed himself to his side. Enjolras caught his eye and Grantaire smiled.

“Holy shit,” he said. Enjolras silently agreed, then a thought came to his mind.

“Is this the part where you tell me that you really like me but you’re also afraid of commitment?” he asked.

Grantaire furrowed his brows. “No.”

“Ok then,” Enjolras said, feeling relieved. “Is this the part where you ask me out so that we can do what we just did on a regular basis?”

Grantaire smiled at him. “Could be.”

Enjolras smiled in return. “Also, you tell me that I’m all you think about and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I didn’t date you.”

Grantaire laughed out loud then, grabbing his side and squeezing his eyes shut. When he had stopped laughing, he raised a hand and brushed his fingers against Enjolras’ cheek. 

“Enjolras,” he began. “I think you’re awesome, will you be my boyfriend?”

Enjolras nodded silently, too overcome to speak, and when Grantaire opened his arms, he gratefully fell into them.

They fell asleep that way—forgetting about cleaning up—with Enjolras’ head tucked under Grantaire’s and Grantaire’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

**Author's Note:**

> The two Latin quotes are from Vergil's second Eclogue, where a shepherd is in love with a beautiful boy who doesn't return his feelings.
> 
> " _O crudelis Alexi, nihil mea carmina curas? nil nostri miserere_ ": oh cruel Alexis, do you care nothing for my songs, nor our misery?
> 
> " _Rusticus es, Corydon; nec munera curat Alexis_ ": you are a fool Corydon, Alexis cares not for your gifts
> 
> (rough translations made by me in like two seconds)
> 
> The other constellations on Grantaire's back are Lyra (the lyre) and Crater (the cup).
> 
> I am [here](http://waroftheposes.tumblr.com) on tumblr, come say hello and stuff.


End file.
